


AARP

by SnappleApple11



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Funny, Humor, Random & Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 11:26:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3445382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnappleApple11/pseuds/SnappleApple11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple clerical error leads to some interesting mail for Killian Jones, and his fiance Emma Swan can't help thinking it's hilarious. Modern AU CS One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	AARP

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick little something put together this afternoon. 
> 
> Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it’s not mine.

At first, Killian Jones thought it was a simple mix up by the postman. After all, mail got misplaced all the time. Neighbors received each other’s mail by mistake or had their addresses mislabeled or names misspelled. It was only really a bother when legal documents or anything time sensitive was involved. 

But the address written on the AARP magazine in his postbox was right. He was Killian Jones, and he lived in apartment 4a on Commonwealth Avenue in Boston, Massachusetts. And there was no one in the apartment building that was over the age of fifty, so there was no way it was meant for anyone in their building, right?

Maybe it was a belated birthday prank from his friends? He was the oldest of them, sure, but only by a matter of months. 

Killian had turned 30 years old about four months earlier and had only just stopped reeling from what his friend Will Scarlet had dramatically called the ‘early golden years’. 

(“Don’t throw out your back Killian, you’re 30 now. Won’t heal like you used to.”)

Very funny, Will. 

(“Tell us what bingo nights are like! And tapioca! Those must be absolutely thrilling for you!”)

Shut up Jefferson. 

So haha, he was 30 instead of 29, but that didn’t mean he had to start getting AARP magazine, no matter what the postman insisted on leaving in his mailbox. He wasn’t even an American citizen yet, wouldn’t be for several years once the paperwork was finalized and he and Emma Swan finally tied the knot later that year. 

His wondrous and unshakeable Swan. 

Her reaction to the AARP magazine had been peals of priceless musical laughter that had Killian feeling a little better about turning the dreaded 3-0. She’d even suggested they try and bring the magazine with them so they could get discounts when they went out. 

If she could laugh at it, so he could he. 

A few weeks later though, there was another magazine from AARP sitting inconspicuously in the mailbox, addressed to one Killian Jones, apartment 4a, Commonwealth Avenue, Boston, Massachusetts. He thought nothing of it except that it was an annoying waste of mailbox space to use on a scam, but brought it up to his and Emma’s apartment with the rest of the mail all the same. 

While sitting on the couch and sorting through the mail, hoping for word from the immigration office on expediting his application for citizenship, an envelope fell out of the magazine pages. The envelope was addressed like the magazine, with the official logo of the AARP printed on the corner, and contained a little red plastic card that read, ‘Killian Jones, Valued AARP member since 1765.’

1765? 

The bloody hell was going on? 

First the magazine and now an official membership card? 

Thoughts raced in his mind, trying to rifle through any and every possible way he could have ended up on the mailing list of a federal agency of a country he was not yet a citizen of. Had someone done it for him, as he originally suspected? Maybe he had filled out an online billing form and it had somehow gotten into the hands of some scammers? Maybe this wasn’t even a real AARP card and magazine and he was being yanked around by pranksters?

When his fiancé Emma walked through the door to the apartment half an hour later, she found Killian still sitting on the couch, AARP magazine in one hand and plastic card in the other, eyes staring straight through to the floor. He didn’t move an inch when she kneeled in front of him. Didn’t even notice her presence until she spoke. 

“Killian, babe? You ok?”

His shoulders jumped immediately, surprised at her sudden appearance. “Swan! I didn’t hear you come in. It’s nothing, love, I was just looking through the mail,” He tried to brush his concerns over the magazine aside, but couldn’t. Killian didn’t want to seem like he was making a big deal out of something that could only be an elaborate prank.

“Uh-huh.” Emma was unconvinced. “Is that another AARP thing?” She asked, pointing to the magazine and card. 

“Hmm? Oh, yes, no, I don’t know anymore. I’ve started to think perhaps it’s an elaborate prank by Will and Jefferson. For all I know Liam’s in on it too all the way from Ireland.” Emma pulled the plastic card from his hand and gave it an once-over. 

Killian saw her eyes widen then narrow as she re-read the card several times. He could practically see the gears turning in her mind, trying to decipher the validity of the offending piece of plastic. One of the perks of dating a detective was off-hours access to some of their occupational skills. 

“It’s a real card, but then that means…” She muttered under her breath, trailing off as her mouth dropped open in realization. 

Another moment of silence, and then Emma erupted in uncontrollable laughter. One hand still clutched the plastic card while the other tried to cover the laughs escaping her, failing miserably.

“Well I’m happy this is still so entertaining for you, darling,” He replied sourly, arms crossing defensively in front of his chest.

“They think you’re over 300 years old! How’s that even possible?” She gasped between fits of laughter. 

“The bloody hell should I know? You lot were still nestled under the monarchy back then. How can they possibly think there was an American Association of Retired Persons to belong to before you were your own country?” He was still annoyed at the whole thing (He’d turned 30 for bloody fucks sake. This was absolutely ridiculous.), but Emma’s laughter had always been contagious and never failed to cheer him up. It was like rays of sunshine breaking the clouds on a stormy day. 

“It’s gotta be a typo, Killian,” Emma offered, laughter finally calming down some. “Maybe on one of your immigration forms you wrote that you were 30 years old but they input it as 300 somehow and AARP picked it up by mistake? I don’t know, but it’s just funny!” 

If something as ridiculous as a typo could cause a mail mix up, then what would be the fate of Killian’s immigration forms? Would those get misinterpreted further? If Killian wasn’t careful, he could find the Guinness Book of Records calling on him to ask how he had lived for over 300 years. 

Emma’s face suddenly lit up in epiphany. “We should use this at the movies and get a ticket discount!” Of course Emma would suggest something like that. She had grown up to become a detective, but had spent years skirting legality during her time in the foster system. Sometimes Killian suspected she never really outgrew the thrill of it all. 

“Such a criminal suggestion for someone whose supposed to be on the right side of the law. You’d make an excellent pirate, love,” An unbidden image of Emma in pirate garb made it’s way to the forefront of his thoughts. Complete with tight leather pants and breasts spilling out of a corset. He didn’t even bother schooling his features, letting the heat of his gaze melt her with his intentions. 

A thoughtful smirk sparkled on her face, and he knew she could read his thoughts. “I would, huh? Almost as good as you.”

He scoffed at that, the heat of the moment temporarily gone. “Swan, I may work in shipping, but that hardly makes me a pirate.”

“Admit it, Jones. You’d make a great pirate.” There was heat in her eyes now, and Killian knew her thoughts still matched his as her tongue flicked out suggestively against her lip. 

“Would you have agreed to marry a pirate instead of a shipping executive? A 300 year old pirate for that matter?”

She tapped one slender finger against her chin in mock consideration, before moving both hands to his thighs, rubbing them up and down the muscles there. “Maybe if he looked like you.” Her hands moved further up his legs, dangerously close to his hardening length.

Killian managed to groan out, “Bloody minx,” before dragging her up for a kiss, intent on showing her how much of a pirate he could be.


End file.
